


Old New Friends

by MACRA



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 12:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12388227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MACRA/pseuds/MACRA
Summary: Angela knows Fareeha Amari. Angela doesn't know Fareeha at all.





	Old New Friends

Getting to Gibraltar had been like something out of a spy novel, but once Angela was there, it was more like a bizarre combination of first day on a new job and a school reunion. Winston led her on a tour around the Watchpoint to meet everyone else who had so far joined the new Overwatch. Mostly it was familiar faces from the old Overwatch, although a couple of them had brought in new faces with them. They exchanged innocuous small talk. How have you been? What have you been doing these past years? She couldn’t bring herself to ask the question she most wanted to, because she wasn’t sure how she’d answer it herself: Why did you come back?

The tour ended in the old Ops Center. One last introduction. A face that was both familiar and not.

“And I’m sure you remember Fareeha Amari,” Winston said. “She’s become my second in command, so if you need anything and can’t find me, you can come to her as well.”

History repeats itself, Angela reflected. Ana would have been proud, although she might not have been good at showing it. “That’s splendid. It’s good to see you again.”

“Hello, Angela,” Fareeha said. “I was glad to hear that you were joining us.” Fareeha stood up from the tactical holo-display she had been working at. And continued standing up for about 30 or 40 more centimeters than Angela had expected. Fareeha extended a hand, and Angela accepted it automatically. Most of her mind was occupied with processing how much the other woman had changed since they last met.

For the first time that afternoon, Angela deviated from her script of standard pleasantries. “Good heavens. You’ve certainly been taking your vitamins,” she said before she could stop herself.

Silence followed. Fareeha’s eyes opened wide and a slight smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Angela didn’t dare turn around to see what Winston’s reaction was. She felt her face flush hot. “I’m sorry. I just meant you’ve grown so much,” she gabbled in panic. “The last time I saw you, you were still shorter than me. Of course that was quite some time ago. I’m sure you’ve been this tall for quite some time. I mean obviously you have.” She retrieved her hand from the arrested handshake with Fareeha, and buried her face in it. “Are you getting tired of people remarking on how you’re not a little girl anymore, or am the only one who has swallowed their own foot so dramatically.”

“You were much smoother than Torbjorn was,” Winston remarked behind her. His tone suggested he had intended to be reassuring. Angela wilted inside. _Congratulations, Ziegler. You are not more socially inept than Torbjorn. Yet._

Fareeha just smiled and laid a comforting hand on Angela’s shoulder. “Don’t fret about it. It’s perfectly natural. Truth be told, I have the opposite problem. Everything here seems so much smaller than it should.”

Angela returned her smile. The conversation shifted to safer topics of conversation, and she managed to relax. The little voice chanting _you idiot_ , over and over in her head didn’t exactly go away, but it got quiet enough that she no longer had the urge to run from the room, possibly to catch the first flight back to Geneva. She seemed to have gotten away with her gaff. It was too much to hope that Fareeha had forgotten the full significance of the remark, but with luck she might believe that Angela had.

 

* * *

 

 

_Eighteen years earlier…_

Angela had to admit that, despite her initial misgivings, Overwatch was a good organization to work for. She had been given her own personal lab, but she’d never seriously expected anything less. The real difference was, if she had gone to one of the multinationals, the lab would have come with certain strings attached. There would have been a blank check on material resources, but a tight ration on who she could talk to. The Overwatch labs were run on an almost academic basis, with open exchange of information being viewed as the norm. Collaboration with outsiders was a bit more complex, but Commander Morrison wielded his “Classified” stamp sparingly and with a light hand.

Morrison had also approved her spending half her time in the infirmary, engaged in actual health care instead of research. She could have spun him a story that Project Valkyrie needed baseline data on the men and women it might be used to save to keep an eye out for any unintended consequences. And that was true enough, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t get from access to the medical records. Instead she told him straight out that she needed to be able to view his troops as patients, not lab rats. That had been good enough for him.

She was just coming off her half shift in the infirmary, when Captain Ana Amari intercepted her. Angela had been heading for Winston’s lab. Valkyrie was biotech with an extra emphasis on the “tech” and Winston’s expertise was proving invaluable. She spent almost as much time talking to him as working in her own lab space. Ana wanted to discuss equipment requisitions and so tagged along. “You, or more exactly Valkyrie, are still in the honeymoon period,” she told Angela. “We should fill out as much of your wish list as possible now, before some bean counter tries to make you do science by minimum bid.”

They arrived at the lab, Angela gave a cheery “Hello,” as she walked into the room. Winston was absorbed in tinkering with some odd looking piece of equipment. He waved a paw without looking up. As usual, Fareeha Amari was seated at one of the benches, hunched over a schoolbook. She gave Angela quick smile and a quiet “Hi” before turning her attention back to her studies.

Ana seemed surprised to see her daughter. “What are you doing here, Habibti?”

“Homework.”

“I thought you always went to the mess hall to do your homework,” Ana said.

“I used to. Now I always come here,” Fareeha said calmly.

Winston paused his tinkering and looked up. “As I recall,” he said, adjusting his spectacles, “she came in a few months ago, looking for help on logarithms. Hasn’t looked back since.”

“It’s quieter here,” Fareeha said, not looking up.

“Well, as long as you’re not bothering anyone,” Ana said doubtfully.

Winston seemed to have lost interest in the conversation already, so Angela spoke up, even though it wasn’t her lab. “She’s no trouble at all. I rather like having her around. She asks interesting questions.” This won her a shy smile from Fareeha.

Ana’s smile was a bit more enigmatic. She simply gave a quiet “Hmm,” and returned to the topic of what Angela needed for Project Valkyrie that Overwatch didn’t already have. This recaptured Winston’s attention, and he loped over to discuss field emitters.

The conversation had moved on to the problems surrounding the balance between output and portability in power supplies, when it was interrupted by a knock at the lab door. It was one of the younger soldiers serving at the watchpoint. Angela was trying to learn all the faces she could, but she’d never met this boy, and he didn’t introduce himself. He was there to see Captain Amari, needing to get her signature on something. It sounded like tedious bureaucracy, and beyond being thankful that so far she had been shielded from it herself, she stopped paying much attention and went back to looking at tech specs on her handheld.

The young man finished his business with Ana, gave her a salute and a respectful “Ma’am,” and took his leave. Ana did not immediately return her attention to matters technical, but watched him depart, arms folded and a slight smile on her face. When the door closed behind him, she sighed and said “Now there’s a young man who’s been taking his vitamins.” Winston chuckled.

Angela looked at Ana in surprise. “Oh. Um. I suppose he did have a certain… military athleticism.”

“Mo _ther_ ,” Fareeha said. “You’re embarrassing Angela.” The girl was looking up from her homework, scowling.

“I think you are perhaps more concerned about me embarrassing _you_.” Ana said mildly. “However, your point is well made.” She turned to Angela. “I should not have presumed on what is still short acquaintance to subject you to my editorial comments. It was inappropriate, and I have made you uncomfortable. I apologize.”

Angela gave a nervous laugh. “Oh, well. If you ever _really_ want to hear a detailed critique of someone’s anatomy, try medical school.” And the topic of conversation returned safely to more professional matters.

 

* * *

 

 

In time, Angela had found it touching that Ana had seen her as a safe confidant. Very few were allowed to see beyond the wall of professionalism that she put up. Angela might not share Ana’s tastes, but she wasn’t going to begrudge her roving eye when looking was all the woman allowed herself to do. The two formed a friendship that survived Angela’s rocky off-and-on relationship with Overwatch, all the politics and in-fighting, even Ana’s role in weaponizing the Valkyrie technology. The older woman’s death had been devastating to Angela.

All of which now contributed to a certain awkwardness with Fareeha Amari, which fortunately seemed to be one-sided and indeed apparent to no one but Angela. Angela might be much closer in age to Fareeha than she was to Ana, but it was hard not to remember her as the serious, sometimes awkward teenager of half a lifetime ago. Hard to forget that she was the daughter of Angela’s close friend. Hard not to think that there was something more than a bit wrong about finding Fareeha so attractive. But damn, if military athleticism didn’t look well on her.

 

* * *

 

 

Angela maintained an awkward grip on the box full of scientific equipment as she stabbed at the door control, closing off her old lab. Back in the day, she’d been assigned space in the bio-wing, naturally enough. Those were the days when dozens of researchers in a range of disciplines had made Overwatch their somewhat unorthodox academic home. Now the “science division” could be counted on one hand with fingers left over. Angela decided it made the most sense to move the important equipment to a space next to Winston’s lab, and leave the rest of her old territory in moth balls.

“Would you like me to contact someone to assist you, Doctor Ziegler?” came a voice from the ceiling.

Angela smiled up at the nearest surveillance node as she shifted her grip on the box. “Thank you Athena, but I think I can manage. And please feel free to call me Angela.”

There was a slight pause. “I am still most comfortable with more formal modes of address, Doctor Ziegler,” the base AI said. “However, I appreciate receiving your permission.”

That was another thing that had changed. Athena was much more chatty than in the old days. She used to only speak when spoken to, and then confined herself entirely to operational matters. That was before she and Winston had had nine years of no one but each other to keep themselves sane. Angela sometimes wondered how the two of them viewed their relationship. From the outside, she couldn’t help thinking it looked a lot like a marriage, and a fairly successful one at that. At any rate, Angela found she liked the new Athena better.

The door to Winton’s lab was open when Angela got there, and she heard voices inside. Thinking that she could at least get someone to help her with the door to her new research space, she poked her head inside. Fareeha was perched on a lab bench, looking on as Winston tinkered with yet another mysterious gadget. They were both turned away from the doorway.

These days of course, Fareeha wasn’t doing homework when she visited Winston’s lab. She was there discussing missions and intel and other matters related to running a secret and technically illegal paramilitary organization. At least usually. Today, their conversation seemed to touch on lighter matters.

“I was not ‘mooning,’” Fareeha was saying. “I do not moon, I’ll have you know.”

“I’m a moon gorilla,” Winston answered. “Trust me, I know mooning when I see it.” Fareeha threw a crumpled up piece of paper at his head in response. Angela grinned and was about to announce her presence, when he added, “I’m just saying that it took you twice as long to finish your homework when Angela was around the lab as it did when she wasn’t.”

Angela’s jaw dropped open and she suddenly found it difficult to speak.

“Oh, and I suppose you timed it,” Fareeha scoffed.

“I took no formal measurements. I only know what I observed.”

Fareeha wagged a finger at him. “And you call yourself a scientist. No data set. No statistics. Just your impressions. That’s beyond sloppy.”

“Surveillance records of the laboratory from the years in question still exist in my archive,” Athena pronounced from her speaker. “It should be straightforward to determine if there exists any statistically significant difference in the captain’s juvenile academic performance based on the presence or absence of Doctor Ziegler. Shall I undertake the computation?”

“Yes!” Winston said.

“No!” Fareeha answered, laughing as she did so.

“Perhaps, Doctor Ziegler, you would like to cast the tie breaking vote?” Athena prompted. Silence fell abruptly. Fareeha and Winston turned as one to look at the doorway.

Angela swallowed. “Uh, hello.”

After a pause, Winston said. “You know, I just remembered I should probably go look into… the thing.”

Fareeha closed her eyes and laid a hand against her forehead. “Yes, that sounds like a good idea.”

Angela stepped aside to let Winston past. She was unsure of what to say. Fareeha came over to her and gently took the box out of her hands and set it down. Then she closed the door and walked back over to the bench she had been sitting on. She leaned her elbows on it, looking at Angela with a crooked smile on her face. “Athena,” she said glancing at the ceiling. “Could Doctor Ziegler and I have the lab to ourselves for a little while?”

“Is this one of those organic things I don’t quite understand?” Athena asked.

“Possibly, although I doubt we understand it much better.”

“I shall apply standard privacy settings to the lab until I detect one of you elsewhere on the base or you signal me via the terminal.”

Fareeha sighed. “I’m sorry, Angela. I know it’s inadequate, but what else can I say? You’ve already been extremely tolerant of my weirdness since you got back, and then on top of it all you overhear that.”

_Wait, what?_ “Fareeha…” Angela began.

Fareeha held up a hand. “Please, let me finish. If I don’t say this now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to later. Before you actually arrived, I thought it would be easy, both of us being here. I told myself it was just a school-girl crush, and that I’d be over it. And I wasn’t. Not exactly.” She spread her hands and gave a shrug. “I have some idea how hard it is for you of all people to come back here. I didn’t want to make things harder. I respect you as a professional and a teammate. I’ve tried to make that the only thing that matters in how I act toward you. I’m just not very good at it.”

“Fareeha,” Angela said again, a bit more firmly.

Just not quite firmly enough. The other woman continued as if Angela hadn’t said anything. “Just, please don’t blame Winston. I shouldn’t have talked to him about it, but he doesn’t understand that how I felt back then is still something I’m dealing with.” She put a hand over her eyes. “And it was just such a relief to talk truthfully, just a little bit, with someone who wouldn’t be hurt by the whole thing.”

“Fareeha, I wasn’t noticing you being weird with me because I was too worried you’d notice me being weird with you!”

Fareeha looked at her, brow furrowed in puzzlement. “What?”

“From my very first day back. I thought you’d see through my remark about you taking your vitamins.”

Now Fareeha looked blank. “I don’t understand. You explained what you meant by that, didn’t you?”

Angela stared. “That was your mother’s favorite euphemism for whenever she saw a man who was… well developed in the way she liked.”

“Oh.” Fareeha looked at Angela. “Oh,” she said again. Then she started to laugh. “I’m sorry. I had almost completely forgotten that. I wondered why it sounded familiar.”

Angela clapped her hand to her forehead and began laughing herself. “Of course you did. At this point I shouldn’t have expected anything else.”

It took a few minutes for them to stop laughing. It seemed whenever one of them was on the verge of calming down, they’d look across the room, make eye contact, and get set off again. It felt good. Angela felt more relaxed than she had since… well, since returning to Gibraltar.

When the last giggles had subsided, Fareeha crossed her arms and looked at Angela with a smile. “So what do we do now?”

Angela took a deep breath. “Go slowly? I like you and I’m really attracted to you. But that’s not really enough. I want more out of my personal life than just getting laid.”

Fareeha nodded, looking relieved rather than upset. “After all this time, we don’t really know each other that well, do we? And I stopped believing in love at first sight a long time ago.”

“So we get to know each other. Properly. Without either of needing to hide or apologize for…” She waved her hand as she searched for the right words.

“For enjoying the scenery along the way?” Fareeha said with a smile.

Angela smiled back. “Just as you say. And we just see where it goes from there.”

Fareeha’s smile grew broad as she stepped toward Angela, hand outstretched. “Fareeha Amari. It’s nice to meet you.”

Angela clasped the other woman’s hand and laughed. “Angela Ziegler. The pleasure is all mine.”

 

* * *

 

 

Morning in the mess hall. Angela sat at a table and sipped her coffee. Fareeha came out of the kitchen carrying a tray. She saw Angela, gave her a smile, and headed over to her table. Angela smiled back.

As usual, Fareeha had just come from her morning workout. She was dressed in a tee-shirt and shorts. On previous mornings, Angela had made excuses to leave as quickly as possible, for fear of being caught staring. Somehow having official permission to “enjoy the scenery” not only took away the fear of embarrassment, it made it easier _not_ to stare. Angela briefly considered proving this point to herself by turning her attention to her breakfast. She decided not to bother and continued to watch Fareeha’s approach. “Good morning,” she said.

“Good morning.” Fareeha set down her tray and took a seat. Angela glanced at what the other woman was having. Poached egg, salad, yogurt. There was also a white capsule sitting next to a glass of orange juice.

A smile tugged at Angela’s lips as she looked up. Fareeha had caught the direction of her glance. “Before you ask, why yes, Doctor Ziegler, this _is_ a vitamin supplement.” She popped it in her mouth and chased it with a swig of juice. Then she gave Angela a grin.

“Very wise, I’m sure,” Angela said, smiling into her coffee.


End file.
